


Five Times Derek Fell Asleep in Stiles’ Bed and the One Time He Didn’t

by arrafrost



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Near Death Experience, Pre-Relationship, Puppy Piles, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/pseuds/arrafrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems Derek has made it his mission to infiltrate Stiles' bed and Stiles isn't sure if he's vehemently against the idea or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Derek Fell Asleep in Stiles’ Bed and the One Time He Didn’t

**1.  
**

Once again Stiles was working late on supernatural research that would aid the pack in taking on their next challenge. This week: Werecats. A couple of them had ventured into Beacon Hills and even though Stiles had initially teased the werewolves, suggesting that they only wanted to chase the cats up a tree, he was now on board with getting them the hell out of there. They were causing enough havoc that the police were formulating theories of gang riots and other such nonsense.

Now Stiles was in full research mode. The noise of the printer filling the bedroom while Stiles sat at his desk, noise cancelling headphones over his ears, eyes absorbing the words on the screen as he scrolled down, copying interesting tidbits into a notepad and sending the larger sections of important information to Optimus Print.

Suddenly, the headphones protecting his precious ears were removed only to slam back down on either side of his head less than a second later.

“OUCH!” Stiles cried, reaching up and tearing off his headphones before turning around and glaring at the intruder. He’d presumed it would have been his dad or Scott but there was Derek Hale standing in his bedroom, and he had the nerve to look irritated with Stiles.

“The hell was that for?” Stiles growled, rubbing his palms against his sore ears, maintaining a deathly glaring contest with the big bad wolf himself.

“You’re an idiot.” Derek snarled, flashing his teeth as though that would get Stiles to back down. While Stiles was part of his pack now, it didn’t mean that he was one of his pups eager to roll over and bare his neck to him.

“That’s common knowledge. Real explanation, now!”

Derek wasn’t surprised by his response. Their conversations were usually filled with banter, snark and raised voices. “You didn’t hear me knock.”

“Yet you came in all on your own. Did you want a biscuit or a lesson in manners?” Stiles rolled his eyes, glancing at the window that was currently wide open.

“You didn’t hear me come in.” Derek added as Stiles continued to miss the point of this pointless conversation on how to train your alpha.

“Okay, now you’re just being need- oww!” Stiles yelped when Derek’s hand collided with the back of his skull. “Human cruelty!”

“Stiles.” Derek started slowly, now that it was obvious Stiles wasn’t going to figure this out on his own. “We’re in the middle of fighting a group of werecats – one of which threatened to, and I quote, ‘use your spinal column as a scratching post’ and your guard is the lowest I’ve ever seen it!”

Instead of responding, he sat silently, rubbing the back of his head as he licked his lips thoughtfully. “Not true, there was that time when I fell asleep on look out-”

“Stiles!” His eyes flashed to red for a mere second before he regained control and his eyes settled back to a mysterious blend of hazel and green.

“Okay, okay! Jesus! Be a good guard dog and stay here if you’re worried the kitties are gonna kneed me in my sleep.” Although he had to admit that Derek did have a point, noise cancelling headphones not his best defensive plan this century, he wasn’t exactly going to let the bossy alpha win. Thus he spun around in his chair and set back to work, clicking on the link he was going to follow for more information on how werecats were turned and how freely they were able to shift.

Derek grumbled lowly behind him but walked back until he was sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the teenager fast at work.

It took several minutes for Stiles to be able to ignore Derek entirely, with a gaze that piercing it was hard to concentrate, but as the hours ticked by, Stiles found it easier to work and soon he had a fresh stack of information, pie charts and graphs that would help him formulate his ideas about the werecats to his slightly dense allies.

Stiles turned around, smug expression ready to tell Derek off and shove all his hard work in the alpha’s face. His plans were unfortunately halted. Derek was lying on the edge of his bed, legs partially dangling off and arms still crossed, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was soft and even.

Without a word, Stiles got up and closed his window, surprised that Derek actually left it open but maybe he was trying to show Stiles how confident he was that he could protect him… or how useless a window was at keeping werecats from maiming him.

After changing into a pair of pajama pants, Stiles crawled into bed on the other side, giving Derek as much space as he could. “G’night sourwolf.”

 

**2.**

“No!” Stiles cried in protest when he walked into his room, dropping his bookbag on the floor next to his door. “Nope! Not happening! Get out!”

On his bed, covering his bed and taking over it until there wasn’t a surface left, was a puppy pile of werewolves. Boyd was fast asleep on the edge of his bed closest to the door with Erica was laying directly on top of him, body stretched over his and face tucked into his shoulder, limbs dangling over onto the bodies of the other wolves. Jackson took up the space beside of Boyd with Lydia wrapped in his arms while Scott was next to him, Allison curled on top of him despite the fact that her head was resting on Lydia’s shoulder. Isaac tucked himself in at the head of the bed, head resting next to Scott’s, and arm tossed down over Lydia’s shoulder. They were all bleeding, bruised and bandaged from their fight with the werecats and Stiles knew this because he just drove back from the warehouse where he and Allison finished bandaging them up.

“Come on, Stiles… we’re sore and comfy.” Erica whined, nuzzling her face against Boyd’s chest as she started to doze off.

“You’re all going to break my bed and ruin my sheets! Now get off!” Stiles complained. All he wanted to do was sleep. They’d had one of the biggest fights ever and he was exhausted. His arms were sore from where one of the werecats had grabbed him, claws sinking into his tender flesh, and passing out on his bed was something he had looked forward to.

“Pack bonding time, Stiles.” A soft voice rumbled behind him, too close to his ear for comfort.

Stiles stiffened immediately, the breath on his neck not helping his composure at all. He should have known Derek had been lurking behind him when he failed to place him on the bed.

“I wasn’t lurking, I was in the bathroom.”

And he’d said that out loud. “No one invited you into my house! You’re not like vampires! One invitation isn’t all it takes, you need to have my permission before you take over- hey put me down!”

Derek hadn’t bothered waiting for Stiles to finish talking, he simply wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and picked him up, carrying him over to the bed. The boy didn’t stop squirming, even when Derek laid himself down at the foot of the bed and tucked Stiles down next to him, in between (and on top of) the legs of their fellow packmates.

Derek simply held him until he stopped moving and sighed loudly. “Because Jackson and Scott’s bony legs are the most comfortable things ever.”

“Shut up and go to sleep Stiles.” Derek whispered in his ear and somehow… he was content. Laying on the bed with his friends surrounding him, their presence making him feel safer, not to mention Derek’s strong arm wrapped securely around his waist. It wasn’t until Stiles felt rather than heard Derek’s even breathing on the back of his neck that he was able to close his eyes and consider drifting off – but he swore if he heard one creak he was kicking them all off before it broke.

 

**3.**

Stiles was going to get a sign. A large sign. A neon sign, in fact, and hang it over his bed for everyone to see.

“ _STILES’ BED IS A NO WEREWOLF ZONE!”_

This was necessary because he’d come home from school, where he’d said goodbye to the majority of the werewolf pack, and he thought all would be well. He could come home to the quiet refuge that was his room and start procrastinating his homework for the week with a solid round of video games. The only decision he had to make was which one.

Everything was not well. His bedroom had been infiltrated, again. Except this time it was a lone mission. One single, large wolf was laying on his bed. Stiles was being incredibly literal. There was a _wolf_ , a huge one, taking over his bed. Derek was in full out alpha wolf form which meant giant black wolf hairs all over his freshly washed sheets. Not to mention the smell of dog that was going to linger in his room for days.

“Derek! We’ve talked about this!” Stiles yelled, approaching the bed but not getting too close because one swipe of that paw and he would go flying across his room. The wolf on his bed growled softly and opened his lazy eyes to stare at Stiles with disinterest.

“What if my Dad had walked in?”

Derek’s large shoulders shrugged as he settled his head back down on his paws, huffing before closing his eyes again.

“Derek, don’t you fall back asleep! Get your wolf ass out of my house!”

That’s when Derek cracked open his eyes, this time glaring at Stiles as he stood up, stretching out his long legs. Stiles thought he’d one until Derek walked in a circle around his bed and laid back down so that he was facing away from Stiles this time.

“I swear, Derek I will skin you one of these days and use your fur as a throw rug! Just like Scar!”

 

**4.**

Stiles woke up with an unnatural heat covering his body. He hadn’t felt this kind of warmth since the time the pack had fallen asleep on his bed because holy hell werewolves emit a ridiculous amount of body heat. Stiles had woken up in a sweat and he practically had to claw his way out of Erica’s and Derek’s arm – because when the hell did Erica roll all the way down the bed? - and remove himself from the inferno that was his bedroom.

He found he couldn’t move easily, not with an arm slung over his chest and a head resting on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and glanced down to see Derek’s calm face. It was strange how peaceful he could look, all the creases of his forehead evening out, no glare around his eyes or scowl on his lips, none of that constant facade that he had to keep up for the safety of his pack, and himself. Stiles had learned long ago that Derek wasn’t a mean or cruel person, he was still young and he’d experienced a good deal of tragedy that hardened him, but even dark and broody Angel figures were able to have a laugh once and a while.

Derek sighed in his sleep, moving closer to Stiles, a leg wrapping tighter around Stiles’ thighs as he nosed at his collarbone. Stiles could move right now, shake Derek off his body to wake him up and tell him that sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night was creepy and far past the stalker phase they’d both been watching Derek tumble down. He could pry Derek’s limbs from his body and retreat to the other side of the bed or the couch downstairs. Anything would have been more sensible than letting himself snuggle into Derek’s embrace and fall back to sleep with him but Stiles had never been that sensible in the past and he saw no reason to change now.

Maybe in the morning he would ask Derek what his fascination with his bed was… but that question would also be combined with the notion of why Derek was always keeping close to Stiles, even sniffing him on occasion which Stiles found particularly disconcerting.

For now, if he didn’t want to have any completely awkward conversations with the alpha of his pack. He would have to deal with Derek’s new found habit of clinging to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d start having to admit some things to himself if he ever brought it up with Derek, which was not going to happen any time soon.

 

**5.**

“Derek, you need to get out of my bed.” Stiles stuttered on the words that he wished had gotten lodged in his throat, preventing any oxygen from travelling through his system and choking him dead.

Derek’s eyebrow rose, like a challenge, and Stiles shivered at the possibilities.

“Seriously, dude. I’m not challenging your authority but you need to stop sleeping in my bed.” His eyes were flitting across the room, trying to find anything other than Derek to focus on because my god this was the most awkward thing Stiles had to do in all his life and it didn’t make sense.

He’d come home and Derek was on his bed, not unusual these days, it had been happening nearly four times a week for the past month. Not strange in the least. Except this time, Derek was shirtless. It wasn’t as though Stiles hadn’t noticed when Derek stopped wearing his jacket in his bed, but that wasn’t cause for concern, not really. Most people took off their jackets and Derek even slung it over his chair instead of tossing it somewhere on the floor like most of Stiles’ guests did. Taking off his shirt and exposing those delicious muscles that made Stiles’ mind fog up because he might want to lick them was another matter.

Stiles had walked in the door and instantly it hit him. All the feelings he’d locked away in a high security safe inside his mind burst open at the sight of shirtless Derek Hale, spread out for him to admire and crave and drool over – which he thankfully wasn’t because his mind was quick enough to tell his jaw to stay in place.

Except it wasn’t limited to physical attraction. As much as Stiles had insisted he hated Derek, even telling Scott to kill the bastard for him, he’d grown on him. Derek was a legitimately good guy who cared about the well being of everyone, not simply his pack. He even tried to find alternatives to killing the intruders who came to pick fights with him. The more time Stiles spent with Derek, the better he got to know him, the more he came to…

Which was why Derek needed to get out of his bed and out of his house right the hell now. This would be a mistake. It would be ridiculous and embarrassing and Stiles didn’t like rejection. He’d gotten twelve years of it from Lydia and when she chose Jackson over him after Jackson had _died_ and come back as a bloody werewolf… that was enough. He watched Lydia and Jackson that day and he knew that he would never get the girl.

Now there was Derek and he couldn’t risk that complication.

Derek was narrowing his eyes and sitting up on the bed, he’d been dozing therefore he was slightly disoriented by Stiles’ outburst. “Stiles, what are you-”

“Out. Right now. I can’t deal with you in my bed and I don’t want you to be in my bed and it would be best if you don’t come back, ever. I mean it’s fine if you’re all here as a pack and whatnot but you, specifically… I don’t want you to be here.”

“Do you mean that?” Derek was standing next to the bed now, eyes searching for Stiles’ eyes that refused to stay still for a moment. If he locked eyes with Derek that would be the end of it, he’d seen enough movies to work that out. One gaze into Derek’s eyes and he’d be done for.

“Yes… that is… I would like you to leave. It’s just that I like my bed, and you’re always occupying my bed, and I’d rather have it… unoccupied.”

“Stiles.”

“Please leave.” Stiles might have started trembling, his nerves going crazy, but he refused to acknowledge it.

“Stop lying.”

Shit. Stiles looked at Derek, directly at Derek, stared right into those green hazel eyes and… nothing happened. He was looking at the same old Derek, albeit a slightly more intimidating and attractive Derek. He’d worked himself into a frenzy over absolutely nothing. Man, he needed to stop blowing things out of proportion. Nothing had changed. Except the fact that Stiles wanted to tell him the truth now. Turns out, it isn’t that hard to face the big bad wolf that you may or may not have fallen for.

“No lies, right…” Stiles sighed, focusing on Derek’s eyes and not his bare chest. He took a deep breath and thought about how he could say this, how he could express the truth. Words, Stiles, use your words. Derek stared back at him, expectantly but patiently, waiting for Stiles to formulate the jumbled sentences in his mind that wouldn’t make sense if they ever found their way to Stiles’ tongue.

“Fuck it,” Stiles dismissed the words in his head and took a step forward, lips colliding with Derek’s.

Derek stumbled back slightly before planting his weight firmly and kissing Stiles back, hands sliding up around his back, a warm palm between his shoulder blades and another at the base of his neck pulling him closer. The kiss deepened from the hard, inexperienced kiss Stiles started into a slow and rhythmic pace. Stiles melted against Derek’s chest, letting his lips fall open and Derek’s tongue slide across his own, tasting and exploring the whole of his mouth.

By the time Derek pulled away, Stiles was breathless and he knew he was only standing because of Derek.

“So that’s… the truth.” Stiles breathed out, making Derek laugh and kiss him again, shorter and chaste this time.

“Does that mean I can go back to napping on your bed?” Derek whispered against his lips.

Stiles shook his head, taking Derek’s hand and pulling him. “No, it means we can both nap on my bed.” He fell back onto the bed, still holding Derek’s hand. Derek followed Stiles up onto the bed, laying down next to him and wrapping his arms around Stiles, who settled his head on Derek’s shoulder. He placed a hand on Derek’s chest, fingers splayed and he traced patterns across his abs until Derek dozed off.

Stiles now had no reason to complain about his life.

**…**

**…**

“Come on, Stiles! Stay with me!” Derek’s voice was loud and desperate in Stiles’ ears, yet somehow distant. His body was limp in Derek’s arms as he picked him up and carried him to his bed. His blood stained the carpets of his bedroom floor. Stiles could feel Derek shaking him gently, trying to keep him awake, but it would be much easier to let himself go.

It had happened faster than he could have processed. He drove home from the pack meeting, all was well in the night and he’d gotten to his front steps, keys in hand and unlocked the door with ease. Nothing was amiss when he walked into his dark house, locking the door behind him and making his way up the stairs. He opened the door of his bedroom and that’s when he felt it. A thud across the back of his head. Hard, metal, probably bat shaped. Stiles collapsed in front of his door, unable to move or process what had happened. Could barely hear the footsteps of the people retreating.

His rattled brain went into research mode. Supernatural creatures didn’t use bats, Hunters were far more resourceful, was this an honest human break-in that had nothing to do with werewolves or shape-shifters or pixies? How sweet.

“It’s not sweet, Stiles. Someone attacked you! You’re delusional.” Stiles had never heard Derek this frantic as he was pulled up into Derek’s lap on his bed. Derek rested his back against the headboard, cradling Stiles’ head in his arms. “I called for an ambulance, everything is going to be fine, Stiles. You’re going to be all right.”

Stiles sighed, it took energy that he didn’t have to stay conscious, to keep doing what Derek wanted him to do. If anyone else had told him to stay awake this long… Stiles laughed softly and closed his eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_ fall asleep Stilinski! You’re not allowed to give up!” Derek tried his best not to shake Stiles but it was hard to stay calm. He was shaking, fear and anger churning his stomach as he stared down at his battered boyfriend.

“Derek…” Stiles whispered, a tender smile on his lips as he drifted off in Derek’s arms.

“Stiles, you’ve got to stay awake. Please, for me.” Derek kissed Stiles’ temple and whispered to him, rocking his body gently. Stiles didn’t wake up, but he continued breathing until the sirens of the ambulance filled the air around them.

.

It was a week later when Stiles arrived home from the hospital, head still bandaged but he no longer had a concussion. The whole ordeal had been draining. For the entire pack and Stiles' father. Derek called him from the hospital, he resisted the urge to question why the Sheriff hadn't been home that night to prevent this from happening and decided against rubbing it in that Derek was already on his way over when he smelled Stiles' blood. Stiles' dad didn't need any of that... not with the threat of losing Stiles.

Thankfully, Stiles recovered with the pack at his side the entire way. At least one of the pack members stayed in Stiles' room to keep him company, either by dozing in the chair, reading to him, or refusing to listen to the nurses and snuggle into bed with him.

Derek was there to help Stiles into bed the night he returned home. His dad was surprisingly fine with the idea of Derek spending the night, but then again he knew that Derek wouldn't risk anything of that sort when Stiles was injured. Instead Derek settled Stiles into bed, tucking the blankets around him before sitting on the edge.

“Thanks...” Stiles murmured, barely audible but Derek could hear it. Derek gave a questioning grunt and Stiles laughed softly. “I never said thank you. If you hadn't shown up-”

Derek shushed him immediately. He didn't want or need thanks. There was no place in his mind for the possibility of Derek not having been there to call an ambulance in time.

“Get some sleep, Stiles.”

Stiles shook his head even through the tired yawn. “Only if you sleep with me.”

Derek's lip tugged up into a smile before he crawled into bed with Stiles, wrapping his arm around Stiles' shoulders and letting the boy rest his head on his chest. Derek laid there, eyes fixed on Stiles' face until his expression relaxed, until he let himself give way to sleep. He could feel how anxious he'd been when they'd walked by in the room. The memory no doubt flashed through Stiles' mind just as it had in Derek's.

Thankfully it didn't bother Stiles enough to intrude in his sleep cycle, but the image of Stiles, broken and bleeding would keep Derek up the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Torako drew some wonderful artwork to accompany this fic, go look at it and follow her it's wonderful! [[x](http://torakodragon.tumblr.com/post/45933452591/for-arra-and-her-post)]


End file.
